Last night I spent a few more magical hours at the Cactus Café listening to Clandestine, one of the finest céilídh bands I’ve ever been privileged to hear. After ten years together, six of them as a serious touring band, they’re quitting and going their several ways.
The Saturday evening show was the last of four the band played this weekend at the Cactus, one of the first venues outside Houston they ever played, and one that always welcomed them. They played to a capacity crowd, even though they began at ten o’clock, and after playing an early show at 7:30 (that show sold out). They used the later starting hour to stretch themselves out, to tell old stories and silly jokes, to play things they hadn’t played in a while, mixing them with the standards the crowd have come to expect and demand. There were some indication that the band felt the significance of playing what they knew to be their final gigs; Jenn (the guitarist) spent much of the night looking as though she were uncertain whether to laugh or to cry, or perhaps do both at once, while E. J. (the bagpiper) was far looser than I’ve seen him before, almost dancing during some of the tunes as he played. Emily (the drummer) was as wonderful on congas and bodhrán as ever, although she obviously spared her wrists on a few selections. Only Gregory, the fiddler, played as though this were just another gig, turning in a good and entertaining performance as he’s always done. (Their very final dates will be played next weekend at McGonigel’s Mucky Duck in Houston; all those shows are sold out.)
The band played many among the crowd’s favorites: “The Gravel Walk” (their opener), “The High Road to Linton,” “The Road to Lindoons Varna,” “Cannonball,” “Miss Amanda Mae,” “Atholl Highlanders,” “The Telfer Jigs” (with Matt Telfer, in whose honor they were written, guesting with the band on guitar), “Babylon” . . . and a few that I didn’t know at all. There were so many more I could have wished for: “Innisfree,” “Saucy Sailor,” “Rocky Road to Dublin,” the “Paddy’s Leather Britches” set, “Ottawa” . . . .
It was a good farewell; the band went out while they were still playing well and still friends, instead of trying to keep going until they hated the sight of one another. They played for almost three hours, and the audience still didn’t want to let them go, trying to bring them back for a second encore, but the band wouldn’t have it. They knew it was time to stop, and they told us that they’d “left it all on the stage.” And so they did, bless them. They played their best for us, and I’m thankful for it. They done it, and they done good. I’ll miss them, and I’ll look forward to their new projects, whatever those may be.
